What is it with Tuesdays really sucking?

I took a shower, at some point he threw the credit card at me and told me to take a Uber, took his vodka bottle, and went back to bed. 

Well, then.  I decided I could take a hint and did just that.  I had a little trouble figuring out how to add the credit card as a payment option, I could add it but I couldn't make it be the payment, easily, at first.  I did get it eventually. 

I got to work and took the money out, did the sales tax form, mailed it, stocked what I could, and left. for the bank.  I got to the bank, made the deposit, and called my aunt.  It is a very sad fact I did not want to go back to my residence, which absolutely did not feel Homelike.  It was pretty much the last thing I wanted to do. 

So I called my aunt and bitched.  She felt a little bad for Ron alone on his birthday but I told her any empathy I had was driven off after an hour of solid verbal abuse.  I decided to go to the Home Depot and get some paint samples. 

Dad loves research projects and he said the Behr Marquee was the best, I can get that at HD.  So I took a Uber there, got a cart, and headed over to the department.  I couldn't find a good cream paint chip, I got one that was OK but not "Oh wow I have got to get this it is perfect" like the other chip I have at home.  I need to find if they do matching. 

I got a nice medium purple, a blue with a little gray in it, a plain white, and their version of cream.  I wanted to test the white on the paint samples I had painted on my walls, some time ago.  They are a dark purple and need to be covered before the wall can be painted. 

And...the white did the job, very nicely.  I am happy with the brand, not happy with the cream, which seems like a plain white to me and NOT what I wanted, but this is why I bought the 8 ounce and not a gallon.  The purple is VERY nice, a winner, and very pretty.  I will make a little video later. 

The blue is good in Ron's room, I feel so picky saying I would have liked it a little grayer, but I will live with it for a few days first.  I am keeping my little jars of paint, and the sample cards, for reference. 

I also signed up for the "pro" loyalty program, I will apparently get discounts.  I will be spending some money there so it seems reasonable to get a discount if possible. 

I will need at least 5 gallons for my bedroom, hall, and front room.  One-two gallons for Ron's room, one gallon for the bathroom, 5 gallons of ceiling paint... The guys will bring their own tools but it will be a lot cheaper if I provide the paint, that way I know I like it and it is high quality.  That is a good sum so if I can get a percentage off I'll do it.  I will also need to buy the cabinet for the bathroom and the sink faucet for in there, ideally a cabinet for above the toilet as well...

Cha-ching.  So many people are getting rich off me. 

I came in and Ron was naked in his wheelchair, lost.  I found a huge puddle of urine in the hall.  I know, let's install hardwoods.  I cleaned that up.  Ron got another vodka bottle and went back to bed eventually. 

He kept screaming "Play the stupid game" which is something he says a lot, it basically means "Live your life, even though you detest it".  Eventually he managed to relate he wanted to go back to bed.  He had peed in the bed as well, I had to change it.  I took him, he almost fell out of bed and was mumbling about walking. 

I asked if he wanted me to pull him up in bed, he said yes.  I told him, 'You have to speak English to me".  He has this REALLY horrible habit of taking a mouthful of vodka and grunting at me for a couple of minutes.  He had me read to him, about alcohol, before his heavy drinking days, many years ago, and I read most alcohol is absorbed through the lining of your mouth.  So he has this thing where he will take a swallow and hold it in his mouth as long as possible because he feels that gets him drunker than just swallowing like a normal person.  And he grunts at me until I figure out what he wants... well, he wants me to - it is very rude, very, very, rude.  I have walked away from him when he does that and he gets angry because he "has" to swallow the vodka and talk to me like a human being.  He did that with a cab driver one day, kept grunting at her and she finally asked, in real concern, if he was OK.  He swallowed the vodka, laughing, and "explained".  She was pretty pissed. 

Then he starts up with his whole "What will I have to do before you put me in a nursing home?"  Not much, these days.  The irony, I told him, the nursing home will not let him drink and he won't need it anymore.  But he will be stuck because everyone would know he would go right back to the bottle on release. 

He never once said thank you for anything I do... just kept going on about "I see how it will be now" and the nursing home.  This is all me. 

The only thing I said was this: he asked me where I would put him.  I said I knew of one along a bus line and I would probably do that.  That is all. 

I did not make threats, this was all in his head that he is going into a nursing home.

Ron was a psychology major for about a year, in college.  One thing they did was have him read a lot of pop psychology books, the intimate enemy, pairing, I'm OK, you're OK, etc.  And he demanded I read them, too, so I could come up to his exalted level of understanding. 

This from a man who peed in the hall, today. 

So anyway one book talked a lot about "scripts", how someone will write a script for their life and make it happen, hell or high water.  An example is "I'm no good with money" and Ron failing to save for sales tax, and on one occasion loaning the money out to a disreputable person when he did save it, then going "Oh no!  I'm just no good with money!" 

Now he has the "I'm going to end up in a nursing home" script, doing whatever he can to drive me away, verbal abuse, bad behavior, blackouts every night, spending money on vodka above all else, etc.  Doing whatever he can to drive me away so I won't fight it when he does need a nursing home. 

Then, the "payoff" "And I can lie in my bed all day and be safe with no worries".  He really thinks it will work that way.  He is trying to make this happen, at my expense I might add. 

It makes me profoundly angry.  If he really wants to "check out" go ahead and do it but don't waste all our savings, run the business into the ground, etc. before you do it.  Don't destroy my health. 

Today I stood by the bed and I told him "If you fall I am going to let you, because I'm not wrecking my back for you".  That took him aback and he was much more careful moving after that.  But I'm not going to wreck my back, he's already literally pissed away our savings, which we could really use right about now... dragging me down with him because "I want to be safe in my bed at the nursing home". 

He has been in long term facilities twice before.  And both times they had other patients who were very loud screaming all night keeping him up.  If he thinks he will get a peaceful 12 hours he is kidding himself.  And the food!  Horrible.  No alcohol allowed... he is not thinking about that.  Not to mention he will have no SS check, just, what is it?  $80 a month and that is it.  He is NOT thinking it through. 

I will have a talk with him on this when he is sober, whenever that is.  He really has it in his head he can "quit" life and get everything he wants, waited on hand and foot, and it doesn't work that way.  God wants us striving every day, not "quitting" life sitting around draining vodka bottles having pity parties all day long.  I am CERTAIN God does not want that. 

And that's what frustrates me the most.  He wants to "quit" life and drag me down with him.  Then, today, almost in tears as he told me "I can't take care of you anymore".  He hasn't taken care of me in a real way in a very long time, he has just torn me down, pretty much ever since my diagnosis in 2006.  The verbal abuse only got really bad as I got "better".  I was better, he wasn't, huge imbalance - could have used some counseling at that point, looking back - so he became a drunk and a verbal abuser to "teach me my place".  He feels very threatened by my recovery. 

But then again I remember one night I was suicidal, before my diagnosis.  I put all the knives in a toolbox and gave them to Ron, asked him to put a lock and keep it out of sight please.  He threw a knife at me about an hour later saying "Why don't you do it?" in the most bitter and hate filled voice. 

He hasn't taken care of my needs in a very long time.